


Forty Five Years

by magicalIdiot



Series: If Aoi was left behind [6]
Category: Zero Escape (Video Games)
Genre: (because Junpei is still a canon alcoholic), ALSO QUARK IS BABY I LOVE HIM, Aoi makes the best of a bad situation, Aoi-Centric, But only because that's what Radical-6 does y'know, Canon-Typical Gore/Carnage, Canon-Typical Violence, Chronic Pain, Gen, I swear there's also happiness in this fic, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Junpei remembers how to SHIFT, Light-centric, Suicidal Thoughts, Terminal Illnesses, minor spoilers for VLR but nothing serious, takes place in the forty five years between ZTD and VLR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29024514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalIdiot/pseuds/magicalIdiot
Summary: Forty five years, Junpei told them. Forty five years until Clover would be able to come back to Earth, if she even wanted to. So Aoi, Light, and Junpei wait.
Relationships: Kurashiki Aoi & Tenmyouji Junpei, Light Field & Kurashiki Aoi, Light Field & Tenmyouji Junpei, Seven & Tenmyouji Junpei
Series: If Aoi was left behind [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110935
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Forty Five Years

**Author's Note:**

> Standalone from the rest of the series, as long as you keep in mind that Junpei remembers how to SHIFT, and Junpei, Aoi, Light, and Clover lived together between 999 and ZTD.
> 
> I based Radical-6's long term effects on the way that rabies and strokes impact the brain. But I am not a scientist, so I did take some creative liberties.
> 
> Hideyoshi makes a short cameo. I based him off of airdeari's lovely fic, The First Nonary Game. He's one of the kids stuck on the ship. Anyway, this fic is basically canon in my heart and I highly recommend it.
> 
> Content warnings for depictions of disease, suicidal thought (because, well, Radical-6), chronic pain, alcoholism, long-term injury, and death.

##  **February 2029**

Light wakes up one morning with the intense desire to kill himself.

While he’s never particularly valued his own life, he hasn’t ever desired death, either. He has to stay alive for Clover. That’s still true even if she isn’t here with him right now, even if he won’t get to see her for forty five years. Assuming Junpei’s visions are correct. No, they  _ must _ be correct. Light refuses to believe otherwise.

Forty five years, huh? Most people die within  _ minutes _ of their Radical-6 symptoms manifesting. Forty five years is an empty dream. There is almost no chance that he will make it that long. He has undeniably caught the disease. Who knows how long he has left?

Light feels around the tent until he finds the person he’s sharing it with: Hideyoshi, one of the other participants from the first Nonary Game. He gently shakes Hideyoshi until the man wakes up. “What is it?” Hideyoshi says, more curious than annoyed.

“I have Radical-6. I need you to write two letters for me, and make sure they get back to Aoi Kurashiki. Can you do that?” Light says far more calmly than he feels.

“You have— but Light—”

“I don’t know how much longer I will be alive.  _ Please _ .”

Hideyoshi sits up and turns on the electric lamp in the corner of the tent. “Okay. Okay, I’m ready. Tell me what to write.”

~*~

Aoi is in the middle of figuring out how to transport seven years’ worth of canned food when he hears a knock at the front door. Junpei is fast asleep even though it’s still early in the night, probably because he’s been SHIFTing between timelines all day to figure out which food companies Aoi should buy out. Money isn’t going to matter in two months, anyway, so he’s spending every cent he’s got.

With a weary sigh, Aoi stands up, grabs a mask, and walks over to the door. He takes a moment to put the mask on and then opens the door. Nona’s standing there, a somber look in her eyes. She hands him two envelopes, one addressed to him and one addressed to Clover. Aoi’s stomach lurches.

“Light contracted Radical-6 yesterday morning,” Nona whispers. “Hideyoshi gave me these tonight when the field teams came back. He told me that Light was still alive as of 6am this morning, but he refused to come back with the rest of SOIS. He doesn’t want to needlessly expose everyone. We don’t know where he is now.”

“Bastard,” Aoi grumbles, trying to push down the anxiety rising in his chest.

“He’s… the longest surviving patient with Radical-6 so far, as far as we know,” Nona says hopefully.

“The bar wasn’t that high to start with,” Aoi points out. “But thank you, Nona. I really appreciate it.”

“Are you both doing okay?” she asks, and god damn, her eyes look exactly like Hazuki’s when she’s worried.

“Well enough. Without our impulse control, we’ve been overworking ourselves a little bit, but I think a goddamn pandemic is a good reason to do that,” Aoi says. With Clover in Akane’s care and Light missing in action, there’s nobody around to curb his and Junpei’s tendencies to forgo sleep. But their survival depends on it. “Any luck convincing your superiors that all eighteen antimatter plants are going to explode at the same time on April 13th?”

Nona shakes her head. “With Alice gone, we don’t have as much support for espers as we used to, and SOIS is prioritizing immediate relief efforts.”

Aoi sighs in exasperation. “Guess I gotta stockpile enough food to cover the government’s ass once they start shoving us into underground shelters. Stay safe, okay?”

“I will. You both be careful, as well,” Nona says, and then she leaves.

How the  _ fuck _ is Aoi going to break the news to Junpei?

~*~

##  **March 2029**

Light lifts yet another dead body and throws it into the truck. Really, he shouldn’t be driving like this, but nobody else can get this close to the dead bodies without risking being infected, and, well. He doesn’t have to worry about that anymore. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. He probably just smeared blood on his face, but it’s not really a concern of his right now. The smell of blood doesn’t bother him anymore, and his exposure to it carries no risk.

How many corpses has Light handled in the last few weeks? 

Stabbed, fallen from high places, poisoned, shot, run over by a car— he’s seen it all. Is this how Junpei felt while he was doing detective work? Light has never been very in touch with his emotions, but at least he used to  _ have _ emotions. He only feels three things now: fear, self-loathing, and longing. He wishes he could see Clover. He wishes he could be at home with Junpei and Aoi.

No, it really isn’t his home anymore, is it? In six weeks, the world will go up in flames. Light may not even make it long enough to see that.

Light’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Oh, right. It’s time. Light wipes his hands on his pants (they aren’t his, he stole them from one of the many empty apartments that he calls home now) and takes his phone out of his pocket. “Answer call,” he says, and then puts the phone to his ear.

“How’s it going?” Despite everything, Aoi sounds casual. Light knows it’s forced. Aoi must be absolutely exhausted, and Junpei, too.

“Aside from spending every moment wishing I was dead, I would say my work is progressing smoothly. I have unblocked the highway, as you requested,” Light says calmly. His voice doesn’t waver despite the gravity of his words. Times are bad enough now that death doesn’t faze anyone, really.

“Eating well?” Aoi asks, because of course that’s what Aoi cares about.

“I am eating meals, yes,” Light says. He would smile if he was capable of it, but it seems that every day, his brain shuts down a little more from the effort of holding off a virus that is meant to be lethal within two hours of contracting it. From Light’s very limited medical knowledge, the disease seems to be akin to rabies: by the time it is detectable, it’s too late to treat it, and all one can do is stay alive as long as possible. “And I am sleeping, although not nearly as much as I would like.”

Aoi snorts. “Yeah, because I’m sure you’d like to sleep all damn day.”

Light can’t stay asleep for long periods of time anymore. His probability of waking up again lessens with each time he rests. Sleeping all day does sound lovely, though.

He could sleep all day if he killed himself, right now. He could crash the truck—

Light takes a deep breath. Aoi’s talking, but the words aren’t quite computing. They’re going too fast. The world is moving too fast.

“Aoi,” Light gasps, “I need you to slow down.”

The other end of the line falls silent for a moment. Light leans against the truck door to steady himself and continues to focus on his breath until the wind begins howling at a normal speed again.

“Okay. Continue,” Light says.

“What’s the last thing you heard?” Aoi asks.

Light furrows his eyebrows. “Sleep. We were talking about sleep.”

“Got it. I was just saying that things over here are going as well as we can expect. The government’s finally starting to gather people who haven’t been infected into bunkers, and we’re lending them our help since we’re miles ahead of them. Junpei’s an idiot, and Nona says hi.”

“Why do you always have to call me an idiot?” Junpei whines in the background.

“Hold on, I’ll give the phone to Junpei so you can talk to him,” Aoi says, and there’s the sound of movement on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Light. I’m trying really hard to figure out how to get Clover back, but it’s kind of hard because there’s so many other things I need to see,” Junpei says. He sounds as tired as Light feels.

Light knows Junpei feels guilty for letting Akane disappear with Clover and Alice in tow, but quite honestly, Light is now glad that Clover is not here to experience this living hell. The dead bodies piled up everywhere, the inescapable smell of carnage, the slow collapse of society as they knew it…

“You have forty five years. Don’t overwork yourself,” Light says as gently as he can muster. His voice breaks from the strain. His head is killing him.

“I won’t!” Junpei lies. Well, Light doesn’t know for  _ sure _ that Junpei is lying, but Junpei and Aoi are both terrible at working in moderation.

Light flinches as a wave of nausea washes over him, another side effect of fighting off Radical-6. “I’m afraid I must go now. You can call me tomorrow,” Light says through gritted teeth.

“Okay. Be safe, Light. We love you,” Junpei says, and something about his genuine honesty brings tears to Light’s eyes. Junpei is such a good person, and Light doesn’t want to see how time dulls his bright smile.

“I… love you both, too,” Light says quietly, and then he hangs up and puts the phone back in his pocket. He has ten or fifteen more corpses blocking this road, and then he has to drive down to the dumping grounds. He still needs to focus for another hour.

_ I’m doing this for you, Clover _ , Light thinks, and he looks up at the soon-to-be-red sky above him.  _ Wherever you are, I hope you are safe _ .

~*~

##  **April 2029**

The first day that Light doesn’t pick up his phone, Aoi gives him the benefit of the doubt. Cell service has gotten worse and worse as cell towers fall apart from lack of maintenance. Maybe he’s in an area without service. He’s survived this long. He can’t be dead. He can’t be.

(Light’s connection to the morphogenetic field was severed weeks ago, when he lost the ability to concentrate on anything other than fighting the urge to die, so Aoi can’t reach him. He tries anyway.)

One day turns into two, and Aoi knows something is wrong. Light doesn’t skip his commitments. Something is wrong, something is wrong, something is  _ wrong _ . Aoi goes in and out of panic attacks as he anxiously looks at any websites or databases that still remain to find a sign of Light’s existence somewhere. Junpei comes out of his room to console Aoi, to help him calm down, but Aoi’s not stupid. He can smell the alcohol.

Aoi doesn’t stop him. Soon enough, he won’t have access to alcohol, anyway. They’re due to go into the bunkers next week.

Two weeks until the antimatter plants explode. Two weeks until seven years of hell. Light wouldn’t be allowed in the bunkers anyway, since he’s infected. Maybe it’s better that he die now before the explosion can kill him.

(No, it’s not. It’s  _ not _ .)

Aoi spends two weeks panicking while simultaneously making last-minute preparations. Junpei spends two weeks drunk while looking into the future to see how they’re going to get out of this alive. They can’t save everyone. Four billion people won’t fit in underground bunkers, no matter what they do, and Aoi doesn’t have control over the world, anyway. He has control over New York City and Tokyo, the two places where he’s holding enough assets to move mountains. And damn it all, he’s going to save as many people as he can.

Hazuki and Seven meet them in the bunkers, mere hours before the explosion will happen (according to Junpei, and he’s been right so far, no matter how wasted he is). Nona and Ennea are there, too, and they have the one piece of news that Aoi has desperately searched for but could not find.

“There’s a secret bunker in D.C. where all of the country’s most important medical technology has been disinfected and taken. That’s where Light is,” Ennea says quietly.

“Why the fuck is he—”

“He’s in quarantine. He’s the only person to have survived this long with Radical-6. They’re hoping that by studying him, they’ll be able to synthesize a cure,” Nona explains grimly. “Light wasn’t captured or taken hostage. He agreed to go with them.”

“Fuck!” Aoi kicks a nearby wall, making a satisfying clanging noise.

Light was smart, damn it all. By agreeing to be a science experiment, he’s secured his survival. But at what cost?

“It’s a smart move,” Junpei says, voice shaking with exhaustion and shock. “There’s no way he would’ve been let into a bunker otherwise. And to survive the nuclear winter…”

“It’s the only way he had,” Aoi says bitterly. “And he didn’t say anything because he knew we would try and stop him. That  _ bastard _ !”

Aoi wants to fall apart, but he can’t. He has to make sure that every person in this room survives and that Radical-6 does not make it into this bunker. At least he’s not alone. He has friends here to help him through it.

But Light… Light is all alone.

~*~

The robotic arm injects another needle into Light’s skin. He can’t even feel it anymore. His right arm has been pricked so many times that it feels more unnatural to have no needles or IVs at all. And really, he should be grateful. Those needles are keeping him alive, and he’s getting VIP treatment. He has the privilege of being fed (by IVs) while the world outside is barren. More resources are going towards keeping him alive than are going towards any other person on Earth.

He has no idea what day it is. He’s lucky that he is even awake today. His mind is constantly in a fog nowadays. It’s far too hard to breathe, let alone think. Well, actually, he can’t breathe on his own. He’s been intubated for at least a week. His brain is starting to fail him. It was inevitable, so he’s not surprised.

Or maybe he’s lost the ability to be surprised? Light doesn’t quite know. It’s hard to remember anything, nowadays. There are only six words that consistently float through his head.

Clover. Aoi. Junpei. Hazuki. Seven. Forty-five.

He doesn’t know what these words mean, but they feel important. His head is burning up with pain most days, and they almost always have to sedate him, but even then, those six words don’t leave him. They bring him comfort, even when he can hardly remember his own name.

He can’t breathe. He can’t think. He can’t swallow. He can’t move. There’s so many things now that he can’t do, so he clings to those words. They are the one thing he  _ can _ remember. He can’t lose them, too.

~*~

##  **2029-2036**

Seven years, Junpei had said, and he was right. Seven years of hell beyond hell, of trying and failing and trying again to grow food underground and on the surface, of never seeing the sun, of eating meager portions just to avoid starving to death. Seven had jokingly considered changing his name now that the number has such a bad connotation for all of them, but there’s no way they could call him anything else  _ now _ .

Hazuki had warned that trust is vital for the survival of a community, so Aoi built that trust as well as he could. He got to know every one of the two thousand people in the bunker, one by one, until he could remember all their names, all the names of their lost loved ones, the foods they liked to eat and the things they were struggling with now. Junpei, Seven, and Hazuki did the same. And slowly, other people started following their example and caring about the strangers they were living with now. It took months of effort, but it paid off.

Instead of a loose gathering of stragglers, they were a community determined to survive.

Laws mean nothing in a world where there’s no trust between community members, Seven had said. And he is right, as usual. New York City makes it through the nuclear winter without losing a single person. 

It’s not like the seven years were effortless, or without arguments. Things were stressful. Tensions ran high. But when you actually know the people you’re fighting with, or the people you’re trying to calm down, it’s a lot easier to mediate. When hard choices had to be made, everyone stepped up to the challenge together. And most of all, earning everyone’s trust meant that people believed Junpei. They’d seen him predict the future over and over again, so they listened to what he asked them to do without question.

They didn’t spend all seven years of the nuclear winter exclusively in the bunker, but it’s hard to live above ground when there’s so much dust and debris in the air, and there’s no sun to warm you when the wind blows. Most of their missions to the surface were in anticipation of the future: what equipment wasn’t destroyed? What can they repair? Which buildings have sustained the least damage? Where will they live? Who will fill what roles in the new society that they will have to build? Planning all of that in advance means that they can hit the ground running when the sun finally peeks through the clouds for the first time.

But it doesn’t come for free. Junpei’s grip on reality has all but vanished. When they leave the bunker for what they hope will be the last time, Seven has to carry Junpei out. Years have passed, and all of them are much older and more tired, but Seven still carries Junpei like he’s a twenty one year old kid who needs a hug. It takes Junpei nearly half an hour to realize that what he’s seeing is not just another SHIFT.

“Aoi,” he mumbles, as they’re walking to the building that they’ll soon call home. “Did I do it?”

“Yeah,” Aoi says softly. “You did. Good job, Junpei.”

“Mmmph… Seven… can I take a nap…?” Junpei asks sleepily.

Junpei has been SHIFTing constantly for the last seven years. No, that’s not entirely true. He wasn’t SHIFTing fully because he didn’t want to lose his way back to this reality. He hasn’t slept for more than two or three hours in a row for years due to the fear of missing something important, of failing to predict something that would result in someone’s death, of missing a major subset of timelines. Many times, Aoi and many of the others in the shelter had tried to coerce or convince Junpei to sleep, but he stubbornly refused. Now, he can have a break. He doesn’t need to panic. He can rest.

“Sleep for as long as you want. I got you, Junpei,” Seven says gently.

And that’s why Aoi ends up driving to D.C. with Nona instead of Junpei. There’s no way the poor kid can handle a road trip now, and in his state, he doesn’t need to handle anything stressful. But Aoi can’t make the drive alone because, well, that’s dangerous, and Nona can always transmit a call for help to Ennea, so she volunteers to go. Aoi tries and fails to convince her to stay behind. Hazuki and Seven promise to take care of things while Aoi is gone.

What should have been a three hour drive turns into a six hour crawl. The roads are unmaintained and blocked by all sorts of carnage, so it’s a distressingly bumpy ride. Even in an offroad vehicle, they have to go slowly. While the antimatter explosion turned many things to dust, it didn’t disintegrate everything, and there’s plenty of corpses left behind. They spend the ride tactfully avoiding any conversation about the dismal landscape around them. Instead, Aoi rattles off thoughts about possible routes to the reconstruction of (part of) New York City, and Nona sends and receives the responses of the folks back at home. It’s like having a teleconference, except there’s no telephones because all the cell towers are gone.

Unsurprisingly, the medical facilities in D.C. are still underground. It doesn’t take them long to find the bunker itself, although it certainly helps that Nona knows what she’s doing. As a government employee (although really, is there even a government anymore?), she had access to the underground shelter plans, so she knows where the bunker is supposed to be. Aoi and Nona both pretend that they don’t see the crumbling remains of famous monuments all around them.

Unlike the New York City bunker, the D.C. bunker has a badge scanner at the front door, so Aoi and Nona are forced to bang on the door until a man wearing a wrinkled suit jacket and jeans finally comes out to see who the hell is making such a loud racket.

“We’re from the New York bunker. I’m from SOIS. Now that the sun’s back out, we wanted to make contact,” Nona says. Aoi bites his tongue.

“One moment.” The man pulls out some sort of scanning device and runs it over the two of them, then nods. “No Radical-6 on you. Come on in.”

The New York bunker had been something akin to a run down storage warehouse, with boxes of food in the back and blankets and mats for people to sleep on. The D.C. bunker is comically different, with its sleek tile floors and bright white walls. Aoi feels like he was walking through an underground hospital. The whole place is ridiculously sterile.

Aoi hates it.

He doesn’t have to look at Nona to know that they’re both thinking the same thing. Cradle Pharmaceutical, trials screening their esper potential, the voice of  _ that man _ . It’s been seventeen years. Aoi has been alive for longer after the Nonary Game than before it. But he will always associate hospitals with the sound of his sister howling in pain as she burned to death.

The man takes them to the director’s office and leads them inside. Behind the desk is a woman in a lab coat who neither recognizes them nor expects their presence.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Rosen, the director of this facility. How may I help you?” the woman asks.

“We’re from the New York bunker. My name is Nona Kashiwabara, and I’m an agent with the Special Office of Internal Security under the Department of Defense. One of our agents, Light Field, volunteered to be part of your research concerning Radical-6, and we wanted to see how he was doing,” Nona says, suddenly all business.

Dr. Rosen sighs and stands up. “Here. I’ll take you to him.”

Aoi doesn’t like the way she says those words.

They walk out of the office and down a long pristine hallway. “Radical-6 is a disease that attacks the frontal lobe in the brain, impairing judgment and slowing down the brain’s processing speed. As a result, the victim is overwhelmed by information, which compels them to commit suicide,” Dr. Rosen says. “Through sheer power of will, Light was able to push back against the compulsion to die, even as his inflammation to the brain worsened and spread. Eventually, the pain was too much to bear, so we began to sedate him, and eventually we were forced to induce a comatose state.”

Aoi’s heart drops into his stomach. “But he’s alive, right?” Aoi says, trying to sound calm.

“...Yes, he’s alive,” Dr. Rosen says. “But he has sustained heavy brain damage akin to the effects of a stroke. Even with the induced coma, Radical-6 is continuing to attack his brain, albeit much slower than before.”

But he’s alive. He’s alive. As long as that’s true, Aoi will find a way to help him. He reversed his sister’s death. He has to be able to help Light, too.

“H-has he developed antibodies?” Nona asks hopefully.

“He has, actually, but his immune system is struggling to completely vanquish the virus. Actually, you might be able to help him,” Dr. Rosen says. She stops in front of a heavy metal door and scans her finger on a panel to the side of the door. Slowly, the door creaks open. “This way, please.”

They enter what seems to be the medical equivalent of a locker room. Hazmat suits line the sides of the walls. “Put one of these on, please.”

Hazmat suits, Aoi learns, are the fucking worst.

After he and Nona have put their suits on, Dr. Rosen takes them through the door into another room. There is a pane of glass on the far side of the room, and through the pane of glass, Aoi can see—

“Light.” Aoi runs over to the glass and peers through to get a better look, and his heart shatters into pieces. Light’s face is gaunt and his hospital gown hangs off of him. There are huge bags under his eyes. His hair is long and unkempt. He looks more at peace than Aoi has ever seen him, and it sits wrong with Aoi. Light has always been calm, but he’s never been  _ at peace _ . Aoi holds back his tears as best as he can.

“I must warn you, with the magnitude of his brain damage, it’s likely that his personality will be different when he finally wakes,” Dr. Rosen says calmly. No, now that Aoi listens closer, he can hear the regret in her voice. Regret that observing Light for years wasn’t enough to develop a cure, or regret that she hadn’t been able to save him completely?

“What do we have to do to help him?” Aoi says grimly. He’s going to succeed. There’s not another option.

“Light’s antibodies have formed as a result of fighting off Radical-6. If we can also sample antibodies from people who have formed them as a result of being exposed to but not contracting the disease, we may be able to extract an antibodies-based cure and a vaccine to go with it,” Dr. Rosen says.

Aoi hates hospitals. Aoi hates medicine. Aoi hates needles. But more than that, Aoi wants to end this nightmare for Light. “I don’t know if I have any, but you can check.”

“Me, too. New York City only has two thousand survivors out of the eight million people who used to live there. Surely, we all survived because of antibodies,” Nona says.

Dr. Rosen turns to them slowly. “Did you say… two  _ thousand _ ?”

“...Yeah?” Nona says, confused.

“Two  _ thousand _ people survived?”

Aoi and Nona exchange a glance, or, well, try to. It’s kind of hard to see anyone’s eyes through the suit. “Is that… bad?” Aoi asks.

“No, no, that’s  _ exceptional _ ,” Dr. Rosen said emphatically. “Most world governments have maintained small Internet networks for communication, and the U.S. is no exception. Now that survivors are starting to surface, we’re gathering data on how many people survived in each location. Your shelter has the highest number of survivors by  _ far _ .”

Aoi swallows. “How… many people survived in the other shelters?”

Dr. Rosen shakes her head. “Hundreds, at the most. Some due to infighting, some due to poor allocation of resources. It’s hard to survive for seven years when basic crops won’t grow.”

The only reason that they’d known how to survive was because they knew the nuclear winter was coming. Aoi  _ had _ warned the government under the Crash Keys alias, but nobody would believe such nonsense… until it happened, that is. And there was no way that supply chains could keep up with demand at that point, which was why Aoi had bought out so much food  _ before _ Radical-6 got bad.

Without Junpei, things would have been much, much worse.

In the end, they’re able to convince Dr. Rosen to come back with them to New York for three reasons. First, she wants to collect antibodies. Second, New York is further along in restarting society than any other place that she could collect antibodies from. And third, Aoi strikes a deal. If he lets Dr. Rosen collect antibodies, she’ll move Light to New York for rehabilitation as soon as he’s no longer contagious. She has a full medical team, so it makes sense to go where they’re needed, anyway.

Aoi is so, so lucky that the other citizens of New York (New New York?) agree to Aoi’s request.

~*~

##  **2037-2039**

“Good morning, Light. Someone’s here to visit you again,” a voice says, coming from somewhere, coming from someone. Light vaguely recognizes it, but he doesn’t remember the person’s name. He thinks this might be one of the people who is taking care of him, but he’s not sure. It’s quite hard to think these days.

Really, it’s hard to do anything. People keep forcing him to stay awake when he just wants to sleep. They try to teach him how to move his fingers and how to shape his mouth to form words. Words, words. They’re so hard to say, so hard to remember. Even if he wanted to express how he was feeling, he wouldn’t know the words to do it. And what is there to say, anyway? He is in pain, all the time, everywhere. His head is on fire. His mind is constantly full of fog. He just wants to go to sleep.

“Hey, Light. Just wanted to drop by and say hello.”

Light  _ knows _ this voice. He’s sure of it. Something in his mind begins to move.

“Sorry I wasn’t able to come last week. There was a lot going on in the city, and since everyone thinks I deserve to be the fucking mayor, I’ve got a lot of shit on my plate. But I hear you’re starting to be able to make noises again, so that’s good to hear.”

Who is this? What do these words mean?  _ Why does it feel so familiar _ ?

“Junpei wasn’t able to come today, either. The guy’s been running himself ragged trying to make sure things go smoothly. We’ve been absorbing a lot of refugees from other parts of the country, so we’ve had to do a lot of work. But it means we’ve got more hands on deck now, so that’s been pretty useful.”

Junpei. That’s one of the words Light remembers. One of the only words that make sense, and he doesn’t know why.

“Hazuki’s a goddamn menace. She’s the only reason we’ve been able to bring local Internet back up, and she’s not even an electrician. Seven’s created a local safety force with rotating shifts for everyone to pitch in. And the farm is doin’ real well. It feels like we’re starting to stabilize. Amazing what can happen in a couple years.”

Hazuki. Seven. Two more of the words he remembers. Are they… names? People’s names?

“Pretty soon, Junpei’s gonna switch to looking ahead for Clover. I tried to convince him to take a break, but that didn’t really work out.”

Clover.  _ Clover _ . Something about that word pulls at his mind even more than the others. Clover… forty-five. Forty-five years. Forty-five…

Think.  _ Think _ . Who is this person who’s talking to him right now? Why is his voice so naturally soothing?

Light can’t speak very well. It takes a lot of effort to gather enough breath to make noise, and then he has to shape his mouth properly. But something about hearing that word, Clover, makes him think that he needs to try. That there’s a reason he’s still alive despite this much brain, and there’s something important he needs to do.

“Ah-wee.” It’s the best Light can do right now, and his voice is still very coarse and uncontrolled. But he can hear the breath hitch in the other person’s throat.

“Yeah. That’s my name. Aoi,” the person, Aoi, says, and he sounds like he’s about to cry. Maybe he is, if Light knows him. Knew him. Does he really know anyone, if he can’t remember anything about them?

“Ah...wee…” Light’s lungs are beginning to ache, but he just knows he owes Aoi something. This person… Aoi… is important to him.

He feels a hand run through his hair. Aoi’s hand. “I’m here, Light. You don’t need to push yourself for me. Just take it slow.”

Light closes his eyes. This feeling is familiar. He holds on to it for as long as he can.

“Get some rest, okay? I’ll visit you again. I promise. I’ll make Junpei come, too.”

Light can’t hold on anymore. The pain and the drowsiness are too much. He hopes he remembers this when he wakes up again.

~*~

Aoi visits Light at least once a week while he’s in the hospital, although it gets increasingly harder to find the time. Everyone keeps electing him mayor of the city, and he’s not going to turn down the opportunity to make life better for the citizens of Newer York. If people trust him, then he’ll meet their expectations.

But hell, running a city and taking care of two barely-functional people is  _ hard _ .

Hazuki, Seven, Nona, and Ennea are lifesavers. Ennea excels at befriending and integrating new refugees into the community, and Nona is just as organized as Aoi is. With Nona keeping city council on the ball and Ennea leading the refugee efforts, Aoi can turn his attention to big picture planning. Hazuki and Seven alternate caretaker duties with Aoi, making sure that Junpei gets fed and Light takes his medications and both of them stay  _ alive _ . The neighbors come by, too, because their gratitude for Junpei’s future vision apparently extends to making sure he doesn’t wither away out of neglect. 

As their community grows bigger, it gets harder for Aoi to know everyone’s names, but he tries his best. The original two thousand survivors are a tight-knit group, so there’s a bit of a balancing act in making sure that newer members of Newer York don’t feel excluded or inferior. And of course, it gets harder to make sure people are abiding by the same community principles when you add more people into the equation, but they haven’t lived this long to fall apart due to infighting and disorder.

It takes two years to synthesize a cure, and another year of physical therapy, speech therapy, and slow weaning off medications before Light can come home. Light still can’t walk on his own, and his ability to talk is limited, but he’s getting better. He’s starting to recognize people and remember things from past conversations on good days. But the bad days are horrible. Light screams and cries in pain and can’t form a coherent sentence. He refuses to take his meds because he’s afraid that he won’t be able to swallow, and he flails his arm around when anyone gets close. Aoi always makes sure that he’s not in the same room as Light before he breaks down into tears.

Only thirty-five years left. Aoi’s going to make it until then, damn it, and he’s going to make sure Light lives that long, too. He has to.

~*~

##  **2041**

Seven reaches for the doorknob and is unsurprised to find the apartment unlocked. Aoi pretty much keeps the door unlocked all day, unless there’s a time when both he and Junpei are asleep (which is exceedingly rare). It’s just past sunrise, so Aoi is almost certainly awake, and Junpei is probably asleep.

Seven walks into the apartment and finds his predictions are correct. Junpei is asleep on the couch, and Aoi is drinking coffee in the kitchen. There are a concerning number of beer cans scattered around the couch and the main room in general. “Bad night?” Seven asks, slipping his shoes off and leaving them at the entrance.

Aoi lets out a disgruntled sigh. “You could say that, yeah. Light’s not doing well, and Junpei watched himself get stabbed to death.”

“Sounds like a typical night to me,” Seven says with a smile. Aoi just sighs again. He’s so resigned these days. Seven wishes there was some way to cheer him up, but Aoi’s one of those people whose happiness is reliant on the happiness of the people he loves. “Heading off to work soon?”

“Yup. I took Light’s IV out, so he should be up in an hour. There’s some potato soup in the fridge if he actually feels like eating today.” Aoi stands up and puts his coffee mug in the sink. “Gotta run. I might be back late tonight.”

“No problem. I’ve got the whole day free,” Seven says, and he takes Aoi’s seat at the table. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Okay,  _ Dad _ ,” Aoi says sarcastically. Seven can’t wait for the day where Aoi accidentally calls him Dad unironically.

Aoi grabs his briefcase and laptop and leaves. His tablet is still on the table, so Seven picks it up and starts scrolling through the notifications. Light won’t wake up until the pain meds have worn off, and Junpei will wake up by midday, if experience is anything to go off of.

So Seven’s got an hour to burn, and the best way to spend that is probably making sure that the safety patrol didn’t flag anything dangerous last night. And since Aoi’s the mayor, he’s got access to everything. Not that Seven would ever abuse those privileges, but he doesn’t have any tech of his own besides his phone. There’s not a whole lot of tech lying around these days.

Seven knows an hour has passed when Light starts wailing. It’s a throaty, uncontrollable sound, the kind made by someone who knows they have vocal chords but can’t remember how they work. Seven leaves the tablet on the table and goes into the bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him so that Light’s screams don’t travel as far. Light is clutching his head with his arm and his eyes are squeezed shut.

“Good morning, Light,” Seven says jovially, as Light generally hates it when people show genuine concern for him. He walks over to Light’s side of the bed, where Aoi has already set out all of the pills Light’s supposed to take this morning and even left a glass of water on the bedside table. There’s a full liter of water on the floor next to the bed just in case Light spills the glass, which… happens pretty often. “How bad is your pain today, buddy?”

Light moans but doesn’t give a coherent answer.

“That bad, huh…” Seven grabs one pill in his hand. “All right, Light. I need you to open your mouth. Can you do that for me?”

Light lets out a loud monotone groan in response.

“Do you want the pain to go away?” Seven asks, reaching out to take Light’s hand. Light’s fingers fumble to grab his hand, and Seven waits patiently for Light to wrap his fingers around Seven’s thumb. His grip is so weak.

“Se...en?” Light says slowly.

“Yeah, kiddo, it’s me. I want to help you, okay?” Seven says gently.

Light slowly shakes his head. “N… wa’er,” he mumbles.

Seven strokes the back of Light’s hand. “It’s only a little bit. I’ll make sure you swallow. You’re not going to choke.”

Light screams.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Seven says soothingly, over and over again, until Light’s screaming dies down. “You remember who I am, right?”

“S….se’en…” Light says quietly.

“Yeah. I’m Seven. Do you think I’d let something bad happen to you?”

“Mmmm… n...o,” Light says, struggling to shape the ‘o’ vowel. Light’s had six months of speech therapy, but he still struggles to talk, and he doesn’t like talking if he doesn’t have to.

Seven squeezes Light’s hand gently. “Can you trust me?”

Light moans again, but he opens his mouth slightly. Seven pops one pill in, then grabs the glass of water. Light’s hand begins trembling.

“It’s okay, buddy. Just gonna give you a small sip to start, okay?” Seven says. Light starts to jerk away, and Seven holds him firmly in place, then drips a little bit of water into Light’s mouth. Light closes his mouth, then swallows very slowly. There are tears in his eyes. Seven rubs Light’s back gently. “There you go. See? You did it. Only two more, okay?”

Light wails quietly, and he starts to cry, but he opens his mouth again. Seven repeats the process two more times, and Light acquiesces, crying and wailing the whole time. Once he’s finished, Seven walks around to the other side of the bed and climbs in. He scoots over until he’s right next to Light, then gently shifts Light over so that he’s sitting in between Seven’s legs. Light leans back against Seven and makes a pained noise.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re fine. See? You’re going to be okay,” Seven says gently, rubbing circles into Light’s back until he calms down.

There’s no clock in this room, so Seven only knows how much time has passed when Junpei pokes his head in looking half dead as per usual. His hair is sticking up at all angles, and he has dark bags under his eyes. “Seven?” he asks, squinting in Light’s and Seven’s general direction.

“Morning, Junpei,” Seven says.

Junpei groans and leans against the doorframe. “Not a good morning. Not a good anything,” he mumbles.

“You should be a little more careful about how much you drink,” Seven says gently.

“Yesterday’s Junpei didn’t seem to give a shit about that.” Junpei walks into the room and jumps onto the bed next to Seven. He leans his head on Seven’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

“Ju...pei?” Light asks, turning his head slightly in Junpei’s direction.

Junpei smiles wearily. “Hey, Light. How’re you doing today?”

“Weeeell,” Light says slowly, sounding out each letter carefully. “I… am… dooo-ing… well.”

“You think you’re doing well enough to try to eat something?” Seven asks.

Light frowns, and Seven thinks that maybe he’s pushing his luck, but finally, he says, “I want… to may-ke Ah-wee… happy. I was… bad yes-ter-day. Ah-wee is mad.”

“He’s not mad, silly. He’s just worried about you,” Junpei says, reaching over to ruffle Light’s hair. “Uh... and probably me.”

“You got that right,” Seven says, smiling fondly. “Junpei, you think you can grab something from the fridge and bring it back here?”

Junpei yawns and nods. “Gimme like… a couple minutes. Headache’s bad. And before you say it, I know. My fault.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Seven says, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t lie to me, Seven. I know you’re worried, too. If it makes you feel any better, that was the last of my supply. I gotta wait another couple of weeks before I can get more,” Junpei says miserably.

“That doesn’t exactly fix the root cause o’ the problem, kiddo,” Seven points out.

Junpei groans. “I  _ know _ . I’m… trying. It’s just hard when all I see is…”

“I know,” Seven says softly.

“But it doesn’t matter. I have to clean up my act before… uh, never mind. Future spoilers,” Junpei says quickly.

“Future spoilers,” Seven repeats.

“I-it’s just, uh, I don’t know all the circumstances around it, so… yeah. It’s not a bad thing. It’s a good thing. A really good thing.” Junpei opens his eyes and slips off the bed. “Sorry, I’m not making any sense. Lemme go get lunch.”

“Aoi said he left some soup for Light,” Seven calls as Junpei walks out of the room.

“Ju-pei… okay?” Light asks.

Seven sighs. Light’s memory probably isn’t the best if his head was hurting so much this morning, so he probably doesn’t remember Junpei’s alcoholism. “He’ll be fine.”

Light makes a content noise. “Ju-pei… should be happy.”

Seven smiles and glances back up at the doorway to the room. If only it were that easy. “Yeah,” he says finally. “He damn well deserves to be.”

~*~

##  **2049**

“Junpei,” Light says, as Junpei lifts him up and places him into the bathtub. The water is warm, a rare luxury in these times. “Do you think that I am a burden?”

“Huh? Where’s  _ this _ coming from? I’ve been giving you baths for years, dude,” Junpei says, and he starts dumping water on Light’s head and arm with a small bucket.

“Yes, well, I can move better now,” Light says, and he touches his hair with his hand to demonstrate. “You do not have to keep helping me.”

“Hmm…” Junpei starts to lather Light’s back with soap. “I guess I don’t. But when you have bad days, I’ll still have to help you, right?”

Light sighs. “Yes, I suppose so. I have been having more good days than bad ones recently, though.”

Junpei makes a noncommittal noise and starts to wash Light’s hair. His fingers massage Light’s scalp, and Light feels his headache fade away.

“Back to my original question. Am I a burden on you, Aoi, Hazuki, and Seven?”

“No way. We care about you, Light, and we want to help you however we can,” Junpei says firmly.

Light sighs. Classic Junpei. “You can care about me and still resent me.”

“I guess that’s true, but…” Junpei pauses for a moment to think. “Okay, let me put it this way. Back before Radical-6, when I was an alcoholic—”

“Is this to say that you are not  _ still _ an alcoholic?” Light interrupts.

Junpei lightly smacks his arm. “Shut up, I’m working on it. I’m definitely not as bad as I was back then, okay?”

“I concede on that point.”

“So back then, when I was sleeping in the bathtub and trying to drink myself to death, did you think I was a burden?”

Light has to spend a little bit of time cajoling his mind to remember so far back, but finally, he shakes his head. “No. I was worried about you and afraid you would do something reckless, but I never once resented you for needing our help.”

“Okay. There. I feel the same way now,” Junpei says, satisfied. “I worry about you. I feel guilty because I wasn’t able to stop you from getting Radical-6, and I couldn’t SHIFT ahead to find the right way to make Axelavir. But even without my guilt, I’d  _ still _ worry about you, and I’d still want to do whatever I could to help.”

“You have always been a self-sacrificial fool,” Light points out.

Junpei laughs. “What, and Aoi isn’t? Come on, the guy dropped out of school and gave up nine years of his life to save Akane. He spent a year basically babysitting me, then seven years running a quarantine shelter. And he’s been mayor for more than a decade because he’s too nice to say no.”

“You are  _ both _ self-sacrificial fools,” Light amends.

“Okay, fine. But that doesn’t mean we don’t care about you, Light. We all love you,” Junpei says, like it’s just a fact that Light should accept. But Light  _ can’t _ accept it. It doesn’t make sense.

“You love who I used to be. I’m hardly myself anymore,” Light says quietly.

“That’s bullshit. Just because there are days where it’s harder for you to remember stuff doesn’t mean you’re not still Light Field. You’re still smart, witty, a little bit of a pain, kind, perceptive… Even if your brain’s having a tough time, those qualities are still in here,” Junpei says, tapping the left side of Light’s chest gently.

Light shakes his head. He can’t help but mourn for the person he used to be before chronic pain and chronic neurological issues dominated his life. “Those qualities may be part of who I am, but there are many days when I am unable to find myself.”

“And we still love you, even on those days. Because you’re still you. You just need a little bit of reminding,” Junpei says with a smile.

How is Junpei so blindingly positive all the time? Well, no, he isn’t as optimistic about his own situation, and he’s often tired and haunted by what he’s seen. But he is always kind to others when he can be, even when he doesn’t have the energy. His heart is on his sleeve, and he shares it with everyone.

“Thank you, Junpei,” Light says, trying his best to smile. “I am very grateful that I have you in my life.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Junpei says. “Even if I’m still a drunk, incoherent mess half the time.”

“Poor Aoi has to handle both of us,” Light says.

“Yeah, but you know he doesn’t mind. We should do something nice for him, though,” Junpei says thoughtfully.

What would Aoi even want? For him and Junpei to eat, perhaps, or for Clover to return. It’s hard to imagine Aoi having any selfish desires; Light has never seen him do anything for himself. Well, nothing except…

“Aoi must hate me,” Light thinks aloud.

Junpei splashes water at Light’s face, although his eyes are closed, so it doesn’t particularly bother him. “Come  _ on _ , Light, didn’t I  _ just _ finish explaining to you that we all love you?”

“That is exactly the problem.” Light sighs heavily. “Aoi and I were… more than friends, and I have no doubt that Aoi still holds those feelings, but there are many days where I don’t even remember who he is. He must hate me for hurting him in this way.”

“You know, for such a smart guy, you don’t seem to understand love very well,” Junpei remarks. “Aoi doesn’t hate you or resent you. He really, truly loves you. He’s the one who insisted on calling you every day after you got Radical-6. He spent days trying to figure out why you stopped calling. He made sure to take all of the photo albums we made and journals of memories we wrote down to the shelter so you could have them for when I bring Clover back, and he makes time to read those journals to you  _ every day _ .”

“And yet I am unable to give him anything in return,” Light says glumly.

Junpei begins rinsing Light off. “You don’t have to. He doesn’t want anything in return, except to see your smile and hear your voice and know that you’re alive.”

Light thinks that maybe once, a long time ago, he said a similar thing to Junpei.

“He deserves much more,” Light whispers.

“I think you’re underestimating yourself. Aoi isn’t  _ settling _ for you. He’s made his choice. Or, are you questioning his taste?”

“Aoi has always had terrible taste,” Light says immediately, instinctively.

Junpei grins. “Well, I’m not going to argue with that. But really, Light, you’re not a burden to either of us.”

Light clings to those words, to remember them well so they don’t disappear from his mind like so many things do nowadays. “All right.”

~*~

##  **2059**

Light knows that something is wrong. He’s not sure what it is quite yet, but he can hear Aoi and Junpei crying in the other room. They’re probably trying to hide it from him, but this apartment only has two rooms (aside from the bathroom), so there’s no way he  _ wouldn’t _ hear it. Aoi is a master of silent breakdowns, too, purely because of the small size of their apartment. (Junpei isn’t, but he’s always worn his heart on his sleeve.)

So the fact that Aoi is crying, and Light can hear it, means something is really, really wrong.

Perhaps they are trying to be considerate by not sharing the news with him, but today is one of Light’s better days, so he isn’t going to let this pass. He is not a  _ child _ who needs protecting.

Light grabs his phone from his bedside table. “Send a message to Aoi,” he says quietly. Forming words is still hard sometimes, but he says this phrase often enough that his phone is able to recognize it regardless. “Tell me what’s going on before I try to walk over there myself. Send message.”

Light sighs and puts his phone back on the bedside table. He still can’t walk very well despite all of the damn physical therapy he’s been through. Some days, he doesn’t even have good control over his upper body. But he refuses to get prosthetic legs on top of having a prosthetic arm, because at that point, he’s hardly human. He wishes that he had enough fine motor control to operate a wheelchair by himself.

Aoi walks in so quietly that Light might have missed it if it weren’t for the sniffling. He sits down on the bed next to Light.

“We weren’t trying to hide it,” Aoi says, his voice raw with emotion.

“Then why haven’t you told me?” Light says coldly.

“Because we… because… it’s hard to say,” Aoi says quietly. “Because I don’t want it to be real.”

Dread pools in Light’s stomach. So it’s bad. Really bad. “What happened?”

“Seven, um. Seven passed away. In his sleep.”

Pain shoots through Light’s head, and he immediately squeezes his eyes shut and covers his ears with both hands. All he can hear is static. The world is going too quickly. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t think. There’s nothing but the pain, the burning, blinding pain quickly racing through his nerves and enveloping his entire being—

And then it’s gone. There’s a needle in his right arm, and it’s gone.

“S-sorry,” Aoi stutters guiltily. “I thought— I hoped it wouldn’t cause a reaction.”

“No. I wanted to know. I’m... glad that I know,” Light says softly, his voice choked with tears. Seven, who had taken care of him even as his own mobility started to decline. Seven, who dealt with his fits of pain and madness by giving him warm hugs, who never took offense at any of the mean things Light said when he was needlessly irritable and angry, who always sounded happy no matter how terrible of a day Light was having.

Light lets his tears fall. The painkillers will put him to sleep soon, and there’s no guarantee that he’ll remember that Seven is dead. He’s going to ask over, and over, and over again. He’s going to cause Aoi and Junpei pain. He has to try and remember. Maybe, maybe if he focuses on his grief, it will stick.

“I’m sorry,” Light whispers, and then he lets out a surprised yelp as Aoi wraps his arms around him. “Aoi—”

“You don’t need to feel guilty, Light. You’re trying your best,” Aoi says. Of course Aoi knows what Light’s thinking. They’re too similar to each other.

“Thank you,” Light says.

And they cry together, until Light falls asleep again.

~*~

Seven’s funeral is one of the first funerals held in Newer York. The nuclear winter, combined with a lack of medical professionals, medicine, and equipment, has taken a toll on all of them. Most of the residents of the underground shelter are younger than Seven, but some of them had still passed away before him from years of eating so little and working so much. And now, those who had been middle-aged adults during the nuclear winter were getting older. There will only be more death in the future.

There are too many people vital to society who want to attend Seven’s funeral, so Aoi decides that it makes more sense to shut the city down for the day and hold a joint funeral for all those who have been lost so far. They don’t have a graveyard, or even any coffins, so Aoi sets up a mostly abandoned area for cremation instead. With all the dust in the air, a fire won’t really make the air quality any worse.

Aoi, Junpei, and Hazuki speak about Seven at the funeral. It’s the hardest thing Aoi’s ever done. He can’t even finish one sentence without crying. None of them can. Light attends the funeral in a wheelchair with an IV full of pain meds. Grief seems to trigger his headaches more than anything else, but he insists on coming. Aoi doesn’t have the right to stop him.

Aoi has felt grief before, for his sister, but this is somehow different. The grief runs deeper, the loss is so much sharper. Maybe it’s because he’s older, and Seven has been a constant for much longer than Akane. To turn around and see that he isn’t there… it hurts. It  _ hurts _ .

Aoi tries so hard not to think about the inevitable truth: that Hazuki will die soon, too. He’ll have to face this feeling again. And Clover… Clover will outlive them all.

Is it just selfishness that he wants to bring her back anyway?

~*~

##  **2064**

Light readjusts the bundle of blankets and baby in his lap as the baby starts to wake up. The fact that he, Junpei, and Aoi are raising a baby together is quite comical, given that he has been bed-bound for decades, Aoi now needs a wheelchair to get around, and Junpei is knee deep in SHIFTing most evenings. On the bright side, all three of them are absolutely terrible at maintaining a normal sleep schedule, so it isn’t much of a hassle to keep Quark fed at the proper times.

_ Aoi, Quark is awake. Could you bring the formula? _ Light asks through the morphogenetic field. His connection to the field is weaker than it had been in his youth, but it’s quite a wonder that he can still connect to the field at all, given everything his brain has been through. He can only reliably connect to Aoi and Junpei through the field, unsurprisingly, but that’s more than enough.

Quark coos in Light’s arms, and Light smiles. He will never know what Quark looks like; he can’t reliably pick up images from the field like he used to. But that’s okay, because his affection for the boy is still very real. It’s incredible how quickly a baby can enchant the adults around them.

Aoi wheels himself into the room and pulls up next to the bed on the side closer to Light. They only have two king beds and a crib in this apartment, for some odd reason, and the crib was only recently gifted by a neighbor. Apparently, in the early days of Newer York, it was harder to find quality furniture, and they were lucky to get two beds at all. Still, it’s enough for the three of them. Aoi used to share a bed with Junpei, since Light is prone to fits. However, given the fact that both Light and Aoi now have a ridiculous laundry list of medical needs, it makes more sense for the two of them to be on the same side of the room next to the IVs and the medications.

Sometimes, when Junpei is having nightmares, Light wishes he could transport himself to the other side of the room and console him. But Light never has managed to regain full feeling or control of his legs, and now his strength is beginning to wane again. He only hopes that he is able to cling to sanity long enough to see Clover again.

And long enough to be a part of Quark’s life, if only for a little while.

“Here you go,” Aoi says, and he hands Light a bottle of formula. Light takes the bottle with his prosthetic arm and lets Aoi readjust his arm’s position until the bottle is in a suitable position for Quark to drink. Light could always try to find Quark’s mouth through trial and error, but it seems unwise to poke a baby in the face with their bottle. “You got it?”

“Yes. Thank you,” Light says, smiling warmly in Aoi’s direction. He can’t be sure, but he thinks Aoi is probably worried about Light wearing his prosthetic for long enough to feed Quark and nurse him back to sleep. Light’s prosthetic has always been very lightweight, but in old age, even a lightweight prosthetic pulls at the weakening muscle fibers in his shoulder. He only wears his prosthetic arm when it’s necessary, and given that he can’t get out of bed, it usually isn’t.

But Light wants to help with Quark as much as he can, and his left shoulder pain is hardly noticeable compared to the persistent headache that plagues him day in and day out. Pain medications can reduce the inflammation in Light’s brain, but he can’t rely on them all the time, or he’ll form an addiction. The pain is much more manageable now than it used to be, since his brain has had time to heal, but Light knows that things will get worse as he continues to age. He doubts it can be any worse than the years he was ill with Radical-6.

Junpei stumbles into the room and faceplants on his bed with a very loud and dramatic groan. Light doesn’t have to see to know that he and Aoi have the same amused smile on their faces.

“How much did you drink?” Light asks.

“Shut  _ up _ . I had one glass of scotch. I’m just  _ exhausted _ ,” Junpei moans.

“Just so you know, Junpei is flipping you off,” Aoi informs Light.

“If I were not currently holding a child in my arms, I would return the gesture,” Light says solemnly.

“Fuck both of you,” Junpei mumbles.

“Don’t teach curse words to Quark,” Light says, pretending to be appalled.

Aoi snickers. “Yeah, Junpei, you don’t want Quark’s first word to be a curse word.”

Junpei lets out an exasperated sigh. “Leave me  _ alone _ ,” he says, but there’s no heat behind it. Junpei is far too used to their teasing by now. “Being old  _ sucks _ . I can’t lift heavy shit without feeling pain in places that I didn’t know existed.”

“Terrible,” Aoi says drily.

“Yes, truly, how horrific,” Light agrees.

“You guys are the worst. See if I help either of you the next time you need me,” Junpei says dramatically.

All three of them burst out laughing. 

Aoi and Light both experience chronic pain practically every day. Light has been in pain for most of the last three decades. Suffering is hardly a contest, but Junpei cannot deny that of the three of them, he is the healthiest physically. That’s not to say that Junpei’s health is great, either. Decades of SHIFTing constantly have taken a toll on him. He’s probably experiencing more joint and muscle pain than most people do at his age.

“So, who wants to take baby duty tonight?” Aoi asks.

“I’ll do it. God knows I won’t be asleep for very long anyway,” Junpei says miserably. “I’m planning on going out again around five or six in the morning. Should be back by late afternoon.”

“I can handle feedings in the morning, but I do not think it is wise for me to attempt a diaper change,” Light says. It’s not like Light has never changed a diaper before, as he most definitely changed Clover’s diapers once or twice, but it’s a lot harder to change a diaper when you have a prosthetic arm and no way to see. Light doesn’t want to accidentally hurt Quark.

“I’ll be here. Couple of City Council members are coming over for advice, but that shouldn’t stop me from changing Quark’s diapers,” Aoi says. “Okay, bottle’s empty. You want me to burp him?”

“Yes, please,” Light says, and he hands off the bottle first, then Quark himself. One of the joys of old age is that Light tires much more easily than he used to, and he already has pretty low stamina to begin with. Still, he wants to help where he can, before he becomes completely useless. Aoi and Junpei have been taking care of him for far too long. If he can provide them even a short respite, it’s worth it.

“Go to bed, idiot. I can practically  _ hear _ you nodding off,” Aoi says.

Aoi is such a  _ mother _ . Light can’t say that he minds. “If you insist,” Light says, and he begins the annoying process of removing his prosthetic. His shoulder is throbbing by the end of it, but he’s too tired to do any stretches to relieve the pain. He’ll just suffer in the morning, as he usually does.

Light lays back on his bed, his head hitting the pillow with a soft thump. He’s already beginning to drift off. “Good night,” he says to nobody in particular. He’s not even sure if Aoi’s still in the room; he wasn’t paying close enough attention.

“G’night, Light. Love you,” Junpei says, because of course he does. He never misses an opportunity to remind Light that no, he isn’t a burden, and yes, he is an integral part of this family.

As Light falls asleep, a peaceful smile rests on his lips.

~*~

##  **2074**

When Quark gets home, there’s an unusual lack of noise in the apartment. Usually, Grandpa Aoi would be cooking, or Grandpa would sorting through all the stuff he’d collected for the day, but instead, there’s nothing, not even the sounds of Grandpa Light having a bad day. Quark dumps all of his loot in the main room and then pokes his head into the bedroom. All three of his grandpas are sitting on the bed, grim expressions on their faces.

“Um… Grandpa, is something wrong?” Quark asks, walking over to the bed.

Grandpa Aoi sighs. “It’s… complicated.”

“Actually, Quark, if you wouldn’t mind, could you come here? There’s a note that I’d like you to read aloud for me,” Grandpa Light says.

“Light!” Grandpa Aoi hisses.

“No, he’s right,” Grandpa says, face grim and voice serious. “Quark needs to see this. He should have a say.”

Quark is a little nervous about the tone of voice that Grandpa is using, but he walks over and crawls up onto the bed. As Grandpa Light had said, there’s a note in the middle of the four of them. Quark picks it up and begins to read.

“On January 23rd, a ship will depart from Earth from New York and travel to the moon. If you and Quark are not both on it, I will kill Clover and Alice. Location details enclosed with a map. Signed, Zero the third,” Quark reads. He looks up from the note at Grandpa Light. “Isn’t Miss Clover your sister, Grandpa Light?”

“Yes, she is,” Grandpa Light says, his face softening. His voice is sad, like it always is when he talks about his sister. Quark scoots over to Grandpa Light and gives him a hug. “Thank you, Quark.”

“This note was addressed to me and left in the apartment mailbox,” Grandpa says. “Do you know what that means, Quark?”

“We get to go to the moon?” Quark says, excited. The moon must be  _ so cool _ compared to the dusty, windy Earth.

Grandpa sighs. “It’s not that simple. If we go to the moon, we will both catch Radical-6. Do you remember what Radical-6 is?”

Quark nods. He’s learned about Radical-6 during his homeschool lessons with Miss Ennea in the apartment common room. “It’s a disease that makes everything go really slow, and then your head hurts and you can’t think very well.”

“It is… worse than that, Quark. The only person who has ever survived after contracting Radical-6 is me,” Grandpa Light says quietly.

Quark’s eyes widen as the pieces fall into place. “Is that why you have all those bad days, and you can’t remember stuff very well?”

Grandpa Light nods. “My case was a bit of an exception, as I had the disease for ten years. Most victims lose their lives within two to three hours of falling ill.”

“Bottom line is, if we go to the moon, you  _ will _ get sick, Quark. Everything’s going to slow down for you, and… we’re going to put you to sleep to try and slow the disease’s spread so that you don’t die. But…” Grandpa trails off. He sounds really scared.

“Grandpa, is this why you’ve been doing all of the, um… SHIFTing?” Quark asks.

“Yeah, that’s why. We knew this was coming,” Grandpa Aoi says. “And we knew there was a good chance that you would have to go, too. But to have to actually make the decision to send you there, knowing what you’re going to have to do…”

Quark thinks he understands now. “If Grandpa and I go to the moon, we might die from Radical-6. But we might not, right? There’s a cure now, thanks to Grandpa Light.”

“Yeah. And there’s a chance we’ll be able to get that cure, if we’re lucky,” Grandpa says with a nod.

“Okay. But if we don’t go to the moon, then Miss Clover will  _ definitely _ die. Right?” Quark continues.

“Yes,” Grandpa Light says softly.

“Then we should go, Grandpa. We have to go so Miss Clover doesn’t die. And then we have to find the cure, and bring Miss Clover home,” Quark says determinedly.

Grandpa meets Quark’s gaze with his worried, conflicted eyes. “Quark. You don’t have to do this just for Clover.”

Quark smiles. Silly Grandpa, always worrying about him. “I know. I’m doing it for you, too, Grandpa. You’d be really happy if you got to see Miss Clover again, right?”

“I…” Grandpa looks away. “Yes. I would.”

“And you said I’ll be asleep for most of the time, anyway,” Quark adds.

Grandpa closes his eyes and nods slowly. “Yes, Quark. You’ll only be awake for a little while.”

“Then it’s fine. I know you’ll find the cure for both of us, Grandpa,” Quark says confidently. Grandpa starts to tear up, but Quark isn’t really sure why. Grandpa cries pretty easily, but it doesn’t make sense for him to cry now. Shouldn’t he be happy?

“Are you sure about this?” Grandpa Aoi asks. He looks so worried, too, but there’s also hope in his eyes. Hope that he might get to see Miss Clover again.

“Yup. Me and Grandpa are going to go to the moon and bring Miss Clover back home,” Quark says firmly.

Grandpa Light ruffles Quark’s hair and hugs him tighter. Quark savors it, because he doesn’t know the next time Grandpa Light will be awake enough to hug him again. “You’re a very kind boy, Quark. Thank you.”

Quark looks over at Grandpa again. He looks really tired, and a little sad. “Grandpa, are you okay with going to the moon?”

Grandpa nods, a sad smile on his face. “I’ve been preparing for this for the last forty-five years. I  _ will _ keep you safe, Quark. I promise.”

“Mhm! I know you will, Grandpa,” Quark says, and he smiles even wider so that maybe Grandpa will be happy, too. Grandpa Light lets Quark go so that he can crawl over to Grandpa and hug him instead. Grandpa’s grip is so cautious, so frail, but it’s full of love, too. Quark knows that, for sure.

In some timelines, Quark will realize that Grandpa only promised that he would keep Quark safe, but not himself. Quark will see his grandpa’s unmoving, still body, and he will cry, and cry, and cry. But in most timelines, Quark will get to see Grandpa be happier than he ever has been as he talks to Clover and she teases him. He will get to hear his grandpa’s laugh, clearer and more genuine than ever before. He will get to see all  _ three _ of his grandpas be happy.

~*~

For the four days that Junpei and Quark are gone, Aoi holds his breath. Light has four very bad days in a row; he forgets that Junpei and Quark have left, he forgets who Aoi is. Aoi has the time of his life trying to force Light to take his meds without Quark around to pull a cute face and coerce Light in a more peaceful manner. God damn it, Light is such a stubborn fucking asshole.

Nona and Ennea come over to keep Aoi company when they can. The three of them go through old photo albums together and make sure they’re all in order so that Clover has something to look at to explain the years that she missed. It’s bittersweet looking at pictures from during the nuclear winter, after the seven hardest years of their lives. Yes, those years were hellish, but in the pictures, they’re all smiling as they live together in the shelter. There’s a great picture of the kids all sitting around Junpei, forcing him to go to sleep after days of nonstop SHIFTing. All those kids are adults, now, with their own families. They all lived. They all made it.

There’s so many pictures with Hazuki and Seven in them, and they hurt to look at. It reminds him of when Hazuki was still alive, when she would sing lullabies to Quark and tell him stories and make him eat his dinner. Hazuki’s been gone for almost five years, now, and Seven’s been gone for much longer, but Aoi still misses them both so, so much. It must be so much harder for Nona and Ennea to look at those pictures, but they continue to help Aoi anyway. Tears are shed by all three of them.

So even though Aoi is tense, and anxious, and a million bad scenarios are running through his head, he’s kept occupied during the time that Junpei and Quark are gone. Junpei had been very clear that if he, Quark, or Clover did not return by the end of January, Aoi should assume that they had not survived. So Aoi marks the days on the calendar one by one, and he waits.

Yet somehow, he’s utterly caught off guard when they return. It’s late at night, and Aoi’s alone, mindlessly going through his to-do lists and making sure he hasn’t left anything undone. There’s no way he could have been prepared, he realizes in retrospect. The door opens. Aoi knows that he locked it, so there’s only one person it could be. He turns around to greet them, and he finds himself paralyzed. To see Clover, living and breathing, looking exactly the same as she did forty-five years ago, is overwhelming. Aoi can’t hold his tears back. She’s  _ alive _ .

“Oh, come on, old man. You didn’t miss me  _ that _ much, did you?” Clover says with a grin, running over and leaning down so she can hug him properly. Aoi can’t even respond. He’s still so shocked, so happy, so shaken by Clover’s return.

And thank goodness, Quark and Junpei are with them. They both look exhausted, but they’re alive.  _ Alive _ .

“Welcome home,” Aoi finally manages to say.

“Grandpa, look! I got a moon rock!” Quark says excitedly, holding up a dusty gray rock about the size of his fist. Aoi gives Junpei a questioning look.

“You really thought we’d go all the way to the moon and Quark wouldn’t bring back a souvenir?” Junpei says drily.

Aoi rolls his eyes. Junpei smiles. Clover lets go of him just so Junpei can hug him, too. God damn it, it’s been less than a week, but Aoi missed Junpei and Quark. He’s so relieved that they’re okay.

Alice stands at a distance from them, not really sure what to do. And, well, fair enough. Aoi had only met her a few times before the world went up in dust. “Alice. It’s nice to see that you’re doing well,” he says.

“Thank you. I would say the same for you, but old age seems to have hit you quite hard,” Alice says, bemused.

“Right, right. Well, we’ve only got two beds in this dump of an apartment, so you’re probably going to have to take the couch, being  _ young _ and all,” Aoi shoots back.

Alice laughs. “Well played, Aoi. Well played.”

“U-um…” Clover hesitates. Aoi knows what she’s going to ask.

“You want to see Light, right?” Aoi says gently. Clover nods anxiously. “Today wasn’t a great day for him, but he might still be awake. Let’s go check.”

“I’ll… wait here,” Alice says slowly, one eyebrow raised.

“That might be a good idea. We don’t want to overwhelm him,” Aoi says. “Junpei, Quark, you guys have to come in anyway to sleep, so…”

“I’ve never been so excited to sleep in my life,” Junpei mutters, walking past Aoi to go to the bedroom.

Aoi sighs. “Please change clothes before falling asleep.”

Quark, as usual, is a fucking blessing. “I’ll make sure he does, Grandpa Aoi! Don’t worry,” Quark says, running to catch up to Junpei. He drags Junpei over to the bathroom, which is where the closet is.

“Okay, let’s go,” Aoi says, glancing over at Clover. She nods, her expression a mix of nervousness and worry. Junpei must’ve explained Light’s situation to her in more detail than Aoi had in his letter.

Aoi wheels himself over to the bedroom door and cracks the door open slowly. “Light?” he says softly.

“Mmph,” Light responds eloquently. Well, he’s lucid enough to respond to his own name, at least. Aoi opens the door all the way and enters the room.

“How are you feeling?” Aoi asks.

Light sits up slowly, a blank expression on his face. “Headache. Can’t fall asleep.”

Yeah, Aoi had figured. “There’s someone here who wants to see you. I know it’s a little late, but are you okay with them coming in for a little bit?”

Light leans back against the bedframe and takes a deep breath. “Make it quick, please.”

Aoi turns over his shoulder and gestures for Clover to come in. Clover wisely doesn’t speak. “Did you take your pain meds, Light?” Aoi says, glancing over at the glass of water on the bedside table. It’s still full, and the pills are still sitting there.

“I don’t want to,” Light says.

“I know you hate drinking water, Light, but it will make your headache better,” Aoi says gently. He wheels himself over to Light’s side of the bed.

Light doesn’t respond. He makes no indication that he’s heard what Aoi said.

Aoi sighs. “Light, please. It will make me feel better.”

“No.”

Aoi scrubs his face with one hand. He can’t use the IV pain meds again without a danger of overdose, and really, Light should be used to taking these pills because he takes them every goddamn night. Clover walks over to Aoi and her gaze falls on the medicine sitting on the bedside table.

Light frowns, and he sits up straight again. “I don’t recognize this person’s footsteps. Do I know them?”

“You haven’t seen them in a long time, so you may not remember them very well,” Aoi says. He still doesn’t know what to do here. Can Light handle the emotional overload of Clover’s return without taking his goddamn meds? “If you take your meds, I’ll let you talk to them. Otherwise, I’m just going to sedate you to sleep.”

“You’re cruel, Aoi.”

Aoi rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Do you need help with the glass?”

“I am not a child,” Light huffs. He isn’t wearing his prosthetic, so he has to put the pills in his mouth first, then take a sip of water. His face twists as he swallows.

“Drink the whole glass,” Aoi says firmly.

“I hate you.”

“I’m well aware. Now drink it, asshole.”

Light scowls, but he slowly drinks the rest of the water. “There. Happy?”

“Delighted.” Aoi wheels himself over to his side of the bed so that Clover has some space. Clover gives him a hesitant look. She doesn’t know what to say. It must be hard to find the right words to talk to the one person who’s thrown away everything for you.

“Well? Who is this surprise guest?” Light asks grumpily.

“Ask them yourself,” Aoi says, because if Light’s going to be an asshole, then he’ll be one, too.

Light reaches out blindly towards Aoi to smack him, but Aoi’s smart. He’s well out of Light’s reach, especially since he’s on Light’s left side. “Fine, then. Who are you, and why have you insisted on visiting so late at night?” Light says.

“W-well, I didn’t  _ want _ to come by this late, but I didn’t really have a choice. I was kind of, um, caught up in something,” Clover says quietly.

Light stiffens. No, he  _ freezes _ . “Could you… repeat that?” he asks shakily. “I think… I must have missed what you said.”

“O-oh, um, sorry for coming by so late. I just— whoa!” Clover yelps as Light jumps out of bed without warning and embraces her. He’s standing on both feet. He’s  _ never _ done that.

“ _ Clover _ . Clover, is it really you?”

“Yup. I’m sorry I kept you waiting for so long, Light,” Clover says, voice choked with tears. Aoi wonders if she’s ever seen Light cry like this before. 

Aoi feels like he isn’t supposed to be here, but there’s no way in hell he’s going anywhere while Light could potentially fall over and hurt himself.

“Light, you fucking idiot, get back in bed this _ instant _ ,” Aoi snaps.

Light’s response comes slowly, partially because he’s weeping and partially because it’s late at night. “Am I not… in bed?”

Oh my god. He doesn’t even  _ know _ . He was so desperate to hug Clover that he didn’t even consciously make the decision to stand up. He’s just doing it.

“You’re standing, Light,” Clover says softly.

“I… am…?” Light slowly slides his hand up Clover’s back to the back of her head, then back down to her waist. “I suppose you’re right. I must be. How strange.”

Junpei chooses that moment to walk in. He takes one look at the situation and his eyes widen. He runs over to Light immediately, his hands already moving to catch Light if he falls, but he doesn’t push Light back into bed or steady him. He waits, ready for the worst but hoping for the best.

“...Is that you, Junpei?” Light asks, turning towards the sound of Junpei’s footsteps.

“Yeah. Just got back from the moon. I see you’ve found your present,” Junpei says, smiling wearily.

“The moon…?” Light frowns. “I’m afraid I can’t remember what you’re referring to. Why were you on the moon?”

“Because that’s where I was, silly,” Clover says. She’s still hugging Light, and Aoi wouldn’t blame her if she never let go of him again.

Light shakes his head. “You aren’t making any sense at all. You’ll have to explain everything to me later.”

“Grandpa Light, you’re standing?” Quark says in awe as he walks into the room. He bounds over to the bed excitedly, and Aoi puts a hand out to stop him from running up to Light.

“Easy, kiddo. Grandpa Light hasn’t ever done this before without falling on his ass,” Aoi says.

“Well, maybe you can walk now!” Quark says excitedly. “You should try it, Grandpa Light.”

“Here, I can help you,” Clover says, slowly releasing Light from her grip. Light sways a little bit without her there to balance him, but he doesn’t fall. In fact, he’s able to rebalance himself on his own.

Huh. Maybe Hazuki had been right, after all. Light wasn’t able to stand because of a mental block, not a physical one.

Clover takes Light’s hand in hers. “Okay, you can hear me, right? Just follow the sound of my voice.”

“All right,” Light says shakily. He’s still crying, actually, but Aoi would bet that he doesn’t know it. All of his focus right now is on Clover, and on her voice, as she guides him step by step in a small circle before leading him back to the bed. Light collapses onto the bed as soon as Clover tells him that he can. “That was… rather difficult,” Light says, winded.

“You did great,” Clover says, and she gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Aoi, you’re next!”

“Haha, very funny. I’m not  _ supposed _ to walk, doctor’s orders,” Aoi says, glaring at Clover. “Anyway, that’s enough of that. You can try more tomorrow, if you’re feeling up to it. Right now, you should get some rest.” Aoi turns to Junpei and Clover. “ _ All _ of you.”

“You don’t have to tell me, twice,” Junpei says wearily, and he walks back to the other bed. “Come on, Quark. Time for bed.”

“Aw, but I spent so much time on the moon sleeping! Do I really have to sleep some more?” Quark whines.

Junpei sighs and scrubs his face with one hand. “Quark, being sedated doesn’t count as sleeping.”

“Okay,” Quark says with a small pout, but he jumps into bed next to Junpei. “I’ll make sure you don’t have any nightmares, Grandpa.”

Junpei ruffles Quark’s hair affectionately. “Thanks, kiddo.”

“Clover, could you…” Light hesitates. “Could you sleep here tonight? Please?”

“Of course, you big dummy. Let me just go tell Alice good night,” Clover says. She gives Light one more kiss before running out of the room.

Aoi begins the annoying process of transferring himself from his wheelchair to the bed. He can stand for short periods of time, so it’s not  _ painful _ . It’s just annoying. Every time Aoi stands up, every single damn joint in his body decides to pop to remind him that he’s becoming ancient history.

By the time Clover returns, Aoi has gotten himself into bed and scooted over to give Light more room. Clover slips into bed on Light’s side and curls up against him.

“Good night,” Light says.

“Good  _ riddance _ ,” Junpei mutters.

Aoi rolls his eyes. “Good  _ night _ , Junpei,” he says, and Quark giggles at his sour tone. Aoi reaches out and turns off the lamp on his side of the room, and Quark turns the lamp off on the other side, bathing the room in darkness. “I swear to god, if any of you wake up before me, I  _ will _ force you back into bed.”

Clover laughs softly. “Aw, Aoi, even after all this time, you’re still a good mom.”

“Clover, I’m going to strangle you,” Aoi says without heat. “Now go to sleep.”

“Mhm. Good night, guys. I love all of you,” Clover murmurs.

Aoi gets the best sleep of his life that night.

**Author's Note:**

> "This is going to be a one-shot," I told myself. 14k words later, I realized that maybe I wanted to write too many things that couldn't fit here. So there might be more one shots coming. In particular, I want to write more from Quark's POV as he lives with his three grandpas. But we will see if I have the spoons.


End file.
